


The Tale of Maladroite

by ellavivira



Series: Behind a Mask [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alice in Wonderland References, Cinderella AU, F/M, but with a twist, really slow build but at least there's a set schedule, we are going to have a lot of fun with this one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7380802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellavivira/pseuds/ellavivira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cinderella, but with a twist! Meet the new Cinderella, or Maladroite as she's called by her step-sister Chloe, and follow her story as she goes through her version of the famous fairy tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sad Tale of the Baker's Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the script referenced to highly in [**"Behind a Mask"**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6494560) with a few...artistic liberties taken.

Once upon a time, in the village of Paris, there was a young girl named Marinette.

And this Marinette was having the worst life of all time.

Eighteen years old and barely literate, she resided in a large two story home where only the attic was what she can call her own. Everything else belonged to her stepfamily.

Once the beloved daughter of a baker's family, everything fell apart when her father passed away. He was a wonderful man, so passionate and loving, that his death was felt throughout the village. Her mother, grief-stricken and vulnerable, fell for the charms of the mayor. He convinced her they needed stability, protection, and that Marinette needed a father and siblings she could call her own. And her mother blindly agreed. She couldn't, wouldn't, see the greed in his eyes but Marinette could see. She could see he was losing votes and that her Mama was still loved by the village. She could see the Mayor and the village was getting poorer. Her mother may have averted her gaze when he sold the bakery but Marinette could see the glint when he signed those papers and the increase of people around him. But she followed her mother regardless and they moved into the mayor's home where he ignored her for long periods of time until her mother was no more.

That was five years ago and in those long five years Marinette had become a slave to her stepsister Chloe. From day one they couldn't get along, Marinette remembering the look on her face when they met. The cold stare.

"What's this?" She stated, referring to Marinette as an object rather than a person. She looked displeased. Marinette and her mother had entered the house and Chloe was standing at the top of the stairs across from them in a silky yellow dress, looking down at them. Marinette was surprised such a small person could lack manners, especially for someone being the mayor's daughter. She could feel her Mama's fingers digging into her shoulder, a warning to calm down and relax.

She missed those fingers now.

"My darling, this is your new mother and your new sister," the Mayor presented them quite strangely, almost as he was presenting a gift to her. Marinette thought it was odd but decided to be kind and polite, as her mother had asked her to be.

No such suggestion must have been brought up to Chloe though. "I have no need for these things. Out of my sight, immediately!" She turned on her heels and walked back into the house.

"Chloe!" The Mayor called after her to no avail. He turned instead to Marinette and her Mama awkwardly. "Please don't take this to heart. My daughter Chloe is a very warm girl. After her mother passed, she became like this. I'm sure she'll warm up to you two."

Marinette looked at her Mama who looked back at her with sad eyes. Her fingers squeezed her shoulder a bit and Marinette put her hand on hers. "I'm sure she will," her Mama said to the Mayor. They shared a smile. As soon as he left the room, her Mama knelt down by her side. "Marinette, I want you to promise to be nice to Chloe. She's been through tough things. So let's be nice to her, I'm sure she'll warm up to us."

But Chloe never did. Marinette and her rooms were next to each other and whenever they met, Chloe would _hmmph!_ and walk away. She would claim the food tasted terrible when they were present. She exited every room they entered. She laughed at Marinette when she fell. She would chastise the bread Marinette helped her Mama make and, when her friend Sabrina was over, Marinette could hear the two laughing at Marinette and her Mama. Marinette was furious but every time she got upset her Mama put a hand on her shoulder and looked at her sadly.

When her Mama passed, it became worse. The Mayor and Chloe weren't present. There was a funeral, at least, and Marinette was able to say goodbye to her properly. After the funeral, she found Chloe directing two men to throw out all her belongings from the room. The ones from her Mama were already there.

Already emotionally exhausted, she looked from the items to the smug girl with her arms crossed in front of her. "How could you do this?"

Chloe's frown deepened. "What, did you really think you were family?" She asked incredulously. "Look at yourself. What do you have to offer our family? No looks, no charm, not even family relations. The only thing you had to offer was the bakery and it was over the minute you moved in. You don't deserve a room in this house. But I'll be the bigger person here and let you use the attic."

Marinette bit back her anger, frustration, her urge to break down and cry right then and there. No, that would mean Chloe won. Despite her death, Marinette could feel her Mother watching her and she would not want Marinette to fight. At least, not now. Marinette had too much to lose with no home or family to fall back on. Pulling back tears, she smiled. "I'll move to the attic," she said, her voice unusually even. "I'll move, because Mama would've wanted me to."

They emptied out her room as she watched, expression empty. One of the men was kind enough to help her bring some of the items to the attic. She paid him with her Mama's pearls. When she reached the attic, Marinette found it was full of boxes already but she tidied it up and made it presentable. She kept her Mama's things close to her, especially a black jewelry box embellished with red symbols. Her mother loved it. Marinette loved it because her mother loved it.

This was the story of the Baker's sad daughter.

This is the story of our very own Cinderella.

Except she isn't called Cinderella. She isn't even called Marinette. She is called **Maladroite**.


	2. The Selfishness of the Mayor's Daughter

"Maladroite, hurry it up!"

Marinette ran up the stairs with a covered tray, rushing up to her stepsister's room. The dull blue dress she wore was ragged and she stepped on its ends as she neared the end of stairs. Her foot got caught: the tray flew up but she reached out and caught it this time. In previous attempts, she hadn’t been so lucky. She rounded the corner and ran until she found the right door. It was impossible to forget since the empty room across from it used to be hers. Outside the door she straightened her dress, fixed her hair and knocked. She knocked twice.

"Come in!"

Marinette had been in Chloe's room a million times but she never could get used to it. The first thing that hit her, as it did every time, was the heavy smell of perfume, something pungently sweet. It was a large cluttered room, each corner hosting it's own wardrobe overflowing with clothes. It was hard to ignore them when Marinette only had two pair of clothes to her name: the one to work and the one to sleep. With gritted teeth she powered through and walked over to the side of the bed where Chloe still lay under her covers, a sleeping mask secured tightly onto her face. Despite much temptation, Marinette had to resist the urge to slam the tray on her face.

"Chloe, breakfast is here." Her voice, despite years of abuse and harassment under Chloe’s wrath, still remained as silky and sweet as her days with her Mama and it served as soft reminder that her Mama was still with her.

Chloe's eyebrows furrowed but she didn’t move. "What are you waiting for then? Maladroite, take my sleeping mask off."

The years hadn't made Chloe any nicer or any more mobile apparently. It had, however, made the town and, consequently, it's Mayor poorer. Once lined up with dozens of servants, there were only three now including Marinette. After her mother’s passing, Chloe insisted Marinette needed to help out in the house and the Mayor had initially been grateful. He had thanked Marinette for helping take care for his daughter. Later on, it was clear even he regarded Marinette as one of the servants. Gritting her teeth, Marinette placed the tray on the bed as she walked over to sit Chloe up and take off her sleeping mask.

The blonde frowned when the mask was removed. Her eyes scanned the room before she huffs, arms folded. "Where is my breakfast?" her voice shrilled.

Marinette brought the tray over and placed it on her lap. She opened the lid and the contents unceremoniously fell forward, leaning dangerously close to Chloe's lap. What used to be a plate of pancakes with syrup had collapsed and the glass of orange juice spilled all around the edges. Marinette tried not to laugh: guess that trip she had was worse than she thought.

Chloe didn’t think it was funny; she growled in frustration as she turned her head to Marinette. "You, you maladroite!" she shrieked as she threw her feet over and got off the bed. The pink pajamas she wore were visibly more refined and of better quality than Marinette’s current dress. Marinette, meanwhile, focused on the tray and relief filled her since nothing had spilled over to the bed, thank goodness. She just did laundry yesterday. "Now I have to eat downstairs! Quickly, dress me."

Marinette walked to the nearest closet and opened it, revealing various gowns fit for various occasions. A twinge of annoyance, but she won’t let Chloe see her be jealous. She turned to Chloe, gesturing to her closet. "Which gown, Chloe?" she asked.

"You mean, which one, your highness," Chloe corrected her. "Go on."

Marinette suppressed all urges to scream. Normally egoistical, Chloe’s ego had been kicked another notch higher since the invitation to the royal ball arrived at their doorstep one month ago. Their little town was within the jurisdiction of a nearby kingdom, and said kingdom was throwing a party in their prince's honor. Rumor said it was to find him a bride. And our vain friend Chloe had decided to own the title before it was rightly bestowed (to someone else). Everyone in the household played along with Chloe’s antics. Everyone but Marinette.

"Which gown, Chloe," Marinette repeated stiffly, growing tired of the charade.

The grin on Chloe’s face receded into the usual frown. "The vermilion gown," she practically spat as she gestured to it.

Marinette looked back into the closet and was not amused to find various gowns in variations of yellow, none of which was vermilion. She picked the most modest dress fit for breakfast, plucking it out by the hanger and bringing it over to Chloe. Who, of course, threw a fit once more.

"That's canary yellow, you uncultured swine!" she yelled as she took the dress and pushed Marinette away. "That's it, get out of my room! I don't need you in here making more of your mistakes and ruining everything!"

"As you wish," Marinette conceded, picking up the tray from the bed. She walked out calmly, avoiding Chloe's outstretched foot; she'd fallen for that yesterday. Marinette closed the door after her and let out the breath she always held when she had to speak to Chloe. Despite her Mother’s wishes, they never could get along but Marinette kept her promise to be nice. She calmly went down the stairs, turning to enter the kitchen. Inside, Chef Cesaire finished two plates of breakfast as her daughter Alya sat on a nearby chair by the counter, reading a magazine. They both turned at Marinette’s entrance, the latter opening the cover of the tray.

"Chloe will be eating downstairs today," she announced as both Cesaires frown.

"Chloe tripped you again?" Alya asked, examining the meal as the magazine she held was all but forgotten.

"It was me this time," Marinette said with a smile as she picked up one of the ruined pancakes and plopped it into her mouth. "Tripped going up the stairs." She took another savory piece. "It's strange, she usually takes her breakfast at 8:40am. Why would she suddenly want it 20 minutes earlier?" She looked up at Chef Cesaire, adding, "These pancakes are to die for, Madam Cesaire, even when they’re destroyed. Chloe doesn’t know what she’s missing." The older woman smiled warmly and Marinette’s heart panged as she remember her Mama’s.

Alya rolled her eyes. "I'm sure Pierre's vacation has something to do with it," Alya murmured, referencing one of the missing servants. "Face it, she'll be trying extra hard to get you this week. If it wasn't you tripping up, I'm sure she would've found another reason to send the tray back."

"You're probably right," Marinette sighed as she put the tray away, all pancakes accounted for in her stomach.

"So, what's the plan?" Alya asked, propping up her head on her elbows.

"Same plan we have every time, Alya," Marinette said as she stalked closer to her. "We must try to take over the world!"

Alya let out a hearty laugh; it was nice to know the situation hadn’t taken away Marinette’s sense of humor. "No really," she said between laughter, "what's your plan to escape your evil stepsister?"

"I plan to escape with you," Marinette began once more. "You're my knight in shining armor, come to rescue me from this desolate home. In return for a safe shelter I shall cook all the sweets—I am a baker's daughter after all. And I can make money on the side making marvelous dresses."

"There's a knick in your plan there, princess," Alya pointed out. "As much as I'd love to be your knight, I still live with my mom and my seven younger siblings. Sorry to say, we can't afford housing sibling number 9. Plus, my mom is the best chef in the world. I don’t think cooking sweets is going to woo me at all." Marinette let out a sigh as Alya continued. "I am keeping an eye out on housing prices for you and promoting your dresses wherever I go. Speaking of, where's my gown for the king's ball?"

Marinette seemed to perk up. "It's upstairs in my room, let's go."

The two girls went around the kitchen and darted upstairs. They passed Chloe’s room and continued further down the hallway. The attic had a secret entrance, only accessible by pulling on a heavy string. Marinette had made sure it was heavy and durable after the 3 times Chloe had “accidentally” broken it. Marinette pulled the string and the ladder that came down with it, climbing up the stairs and turning on the lights while Alya climbed.

Marinette's room hardly looked like a storage attic. She had a bed by the circular window, a bed table by it with a lamp and a vanity next to it decorated with her Mama's things. The black jewelry box her Mama loved stood out strikingly from all the other items. On the other side was a mostly-empty closet that held her things and a mannequin with a pink ball gown dress on it. Scraps of fabric littered the floor.

As Alya adjusted to the window light, Marinette took out a white box she hid underneath her bed and showed it to Alya. "Take a look," Marinette dared.

Alya opened the box and took out the gown that was folded inside. She unfolded it completely, pressed it against her figure and turned towards the mirrors. It was a gorgeous white gown, the top a strapless white corset embroidered in little black stars decorated in black rhinestones. It spread out into a ballroom gown a little below the waist, a thin layer of shimmering glitter right above the long white skirt. The bottom of the dress was also embroidered in little stars with black rhinestones accenting each star's point.

"Is this a wedding gown or a ballroom gown?" Alya joked. 

"Well, if everything works out with the prince, you'll be ready to take your vows," Marinette insisted. "Honey, with this dress, you’ll be the only Cinderella in that ballroom. The prince will surely be yours.”

"And that one, is it yours?" She gestured to the dress on the mannequin, the pink ball gown resting. The top of the gown was sleeveless with a neat white collar accented the neck and the bright pink dipped into a long glittering skirt accented in white horizontal stripes at the bottom. White lace was tied neatly into a bow at the waist and separated both parts neatly. Despite the occasion, it looked like a gorgeous day dress than a ballroom dress but Alya had no doubt Marinette had some accessories to make it work.

Marinette nodded. "You know how much I love pink."

Alya straightened up. "Alright, so how much do I owe you?"

An airy laugh rang from Marinette’s mouth. "What, why would I ever charge you, Alya? You wear my dresses, promote them and you’re even looking for a place for me to move out to. It's the least I can do for all your help."

"Oh no you don't. I'll pay you back for this, I promise." Alya was looking at her warmly, motherly, and wrapped her friend in a tight embrace. "Thanks Marinette. Now, let's get this folded and out of here before Chloe gets downstairs."

Marinette folded the gown up and put it back in the box, tying the box up with loose rope. She gave the box to Alya and watched her go downstairs before she did. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Chloe's door opened and she looked suspiciously from Alya, Marinette and the box. "What's that?" She gestured to the box.

Marinette ran over to Alya and tapped her to keep moving. "Just a birthday present," she said. "Please hurry downstairs, Chloe. Your father is waiting for you." The Mayor was a punctual man: it was either 9am breakfast or no breakfast at all.

Chloe's face scrunched up. "Don't tell me what to do, Maladroite," she said as she huffed into her room. Marinette and Alya continued moving without looking back. No good would come out of being around Chloe.

Back in the kitchen, Alya stashed her box away in her mother's belongings as Chef Cesaire finished up the last plate. Marinette began taking out all of the food to the table, bringing the coffee and the milk jugs first. Chloe hadn't arrived yet but the Mayor was already seated, reading a newspaper. He was dressed in a proper gentleman'a suit and didn't bother to look up as she entered. She filled him a cup of coffee to which he nodded in acknowledgement, put down the jugs and walked back in the kitchen. She brought out the toast and jam next, placed it in the middle of the table, and then brought out the scones. The Mayor didn't move to reach them. Marinette could see the clock still hadn't ticked 9. She returned to get two plates of pancakes, placed one in front of the Mayor and the other across from him. It rang 9 right as Marinette positioned herself to nearest to the wall, lest he request something. The Mayor put down his newspaper and frowned. "Where is my daughter Chloe?" 

Before Marinette could speak, Chloe burst into the dining room in her "vermillion" dress, a pink gown in her hands. "Daddy, I found the most perfect gown!" she was saying to her father as she displayed the gown. Horror grew on Marinette's face as she recognized it immediately. How could she not, it’s the one she made herself!

"That's my gown!" Marinette found herself saying before she could stop herself. Two pairs of eyes looked at her, both disapproving, but she continued. "It's the gown I'll be wearing to the Royal ball tomorrow." 

Chloe didn't even try to stifle her laugh. "Excuse me but who invited _you_?"

Marinette ignored Chloe and looked only at the Mayor. She just needed the Mayor's approval after all. "The invitation was sent to any and all eligible ladies. I believe that includes me as well. "

Chloe stomped her foot, unwilling to be ignored. "No, you can't go! There are all sorts of things that need to be done tomorrow."

"I'll get them all done before my departure," Marinette practically breathed out in confidence. The fact the Mayor hadn't agreed with Chloe was a good sign.

"Well, this gown is mine," Chloe latched on to the gown possessively.

Something inside Marinette ticked but she tried not to let it show. "As I said, that's my gown for the royal ball. I'm sure you have various other gowns you could use for the event."

"I do. But I want to wear this one. Besides, it's not like your name is written on it."

"Actually it is," Marinette said as she raised the bottom of the gown and turned it inside out. The name Marinette was written in cursive. "I should know, I made it myself."

Chloe was seething as Marinette reveled in her defeat. The Mayor cleared his throat and Marinette straightened up as she turned to him. It was time to hear the verdict. 

"You say you made the dress yourself?" He inquired.

"Yes sir."

"Then surely you can make yourself another for the ball." Chloe let out a cry of glee as she hugged her father and showered him in bouts of 'thank you's. "Please, Maladroite—” Marinette winced at the nicknamed bestowed by this family. “—you know I hate to see my princess unhappy. As for the ball, as long as all your chores are done, you may go."

 Marinette wanted to scream. Did the mayor not understand how long it takes to make a dress? How much _fabric_? Where did he expect her to get fabric from? But, looking at Chloe's triumphant face, Marinette knew she couldn't make a fuss. Chloe wanted to make her life miserable. The minute her composure fell, Chloe won. So Marinette nodded and said, "Thank you sir" before heading back into the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please pretend today is Thursday and not Friday. My life was taken over by pokemon go, but now I'm a level 10 trainer taking over gyms and nothing has made me happier. Next update next week.


	3. The Hardworker's Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dress, take 2.

“What. A. BITCH! Oooh if I could just give her a piece of my mind I would—!”

Alya was shouting into a newspaper while Marinette helped Mrs. Cesaire tidy up the kitchen, still confined to the counter. Breakfast was over and Marinette was keeping herself busy with chores while she brainstormed over the main problem: “Where are you going to get fabric?” Alya continued in a low voice, worried. “It took me forever to sneak in all that nice fabric that you saved up for into this house! Does he think you have fabric lying around _just_ to make dresses? Like, does he think fabric falls from the sky?”

An idea popped into her head. “No…not the sky, perhaps,” Marinette said as the strokes on the table she was cleaning slowed down. “But there’s still fabric in this house. Last time I did laundry, Chloe and the Mayor demanded I throw out everything with holes. I thought it was a waste and was delaying it but, now that I think about it, I’m sure it’s still in the garage.”

Alya was already off her chair and running out the door. Marinette glanced at Mrs. Cesaire, whom nodded, and then chased after her. Together they searched the garage until they came across a large bag wrapped tightly. They looked at each other, their faces giddy, and then Alya opened the bag. Out came all types of fabric: dresses, curtains, coats, pants. Alya took one look at the bag and then at Marinette before saying, “You think you can make a dress out of that?”

“Piece of cake!” Marinette was confident; there was nothing that could stop her from going to the king’s ball. “Chloe can keep that dress—I’ll make an even better one! And besides, that means _three_ people will be wearing Marinette originals and what can be better advertisement than that?” A second later, she was engulfed in a huge hug.

“You go, girl!” Alya whispered into the hug. “You show Chloe you’re a force to be reckoned with! Now, let’s get all this fabric upstairs carefully before Evil Stepsister ruins our Plan B dress.”

The two girls ran through the house carefully, eyes out for Chloe, but luckily didn’t run into her. They made it safe and sound to the attic and tucked the bag under her bed. Then they retreated back to the kitchen to say their goodbyes as the Cesaires headed back home for the day. Marinette waved goodbye until she could no longer see the outline of their silhouettes. Then she turned around….and got to work.

Ideally, work would be sewing her new dress but, before she could do that, she had to make sure the coast was clear. The Mayor had already gone into town; Marinette knew his schedule like the back of her hand. Chloe was the true enigma, and the thorn on her side. With Chloe in the house she would have to stay on her toes all day cleaning after her sudden clumsy spells and she wouldn’t have a moment to even think about sewing. Just as she was about to prowl the house, the doorbell rang. Marinette turned towards the door but someone had already opened it—someone meaning Chloe. A high-pitched squeal rang out and Marinette knew Sabrina was behind that door. There was shrieking incoherent sentences and then a loud SLAM! Chloe had left with Sabrina. Chloe would be gone at least half the day. Marinette was free. Her face brightening up at the realization, Marinette dropped her broom, ran up to the attic and got to work!

First thing she did: empty out the bag. Spreading out all the fabrics in front of her, Marinette looked for what the most fabric or color in order to decide her dress. After a moment’s hesitation, she decided on red after examining the satin curtains that Chloe had decided had to be thrown out because of the uneven fringes at the end. She cut off the fringes and got to work measuring, cutting and outlining her dress. There was enough fabric from the curtains for the skirt of her dress and Marinette got to work arranging it into a perfect princess scoop. It took all her concentration making it look flawlessly into one fabric piece that she didn’t realize it was night-time until she heard the door downstairs slam close. Jumping up into action, Marinette quickly hid everything under her bed and dashed downstairs just in time to meet Chloe as she headed upstairs. Her arms were full of shopping bags after an afternoon no doubt spending her father’s remaining fortune. It stung a little.

“Maledroite,” Chloe greeted her as she passed her on the stairway. A pause. “You better not be thinking of going to the King’s Ball. You don’t even have a dress now do you?”

“We’ll see about that tomorrow, Chloe,” Marinette shot back.

Chloe let out a scoff. “Whatever, the prince would be an absolute madman to choose you and your frumpy homemade dress over _moi_.” With that, she stormed off to her room.

Marinette let out a breath of relief she didn’t know she had been holding. Then she walked to where she had dropped the broom last and swept the floors. She polished the windows one last time and waited by the door until the Mayor finally entered the room.

“No dinner tonight,” the Mayor announced. “We will all be going straight to bed.” Her gut grumbled in disappointment, but Marinette nodded to show she understood. This meant more time for dressmaking, she told herself. As soon as Marinette confirmed the Mayor had gone into his room, she zipped back to her room and continued her dress.

The red fabric was gone. There were traces of Chloe in the room with how there was suddenly fabric that should’ve been under the bed now all over the room but luckily she hadn’t reached far enough to grab the dress skirt she’d been working on. The problem now was there was no more red fabric and so little to work with. Marinette went through all the remaining fabric again and then decided this dress might need a little more color than she thought to work. She took the fabric from the Mayor’s white shirt and the fabric from Chloe’s black skirt, ripped them both and then stitched them together. Then she cut into it again until she sewed a strapless bandeau top, the colors separated in zig-zag form beginning from her collar bone until her right side. She put both the top and the skirt together, sewing them together carefully in place.

After a very long time working on the stitches, she stepped back and looked at her new dress…but something felt odd. After searching her room some more, Marinette’s eyes caught on to something white. On her vanity was a white scarf that belonged to her Mama. She removed the scarf from the vanity, looked at it, then looked at her dress. She took a deep breath and then steeled herself. “I’m going to do this,” she said more to herself than anything, and then looked at the scarf with a smile. Her mom was on her side. She lined up the scarf with the dress and then tied the scarf between the top and skirt of the dress. She sewed the scarf on and, on the side, created a big white bow. Finally satisfied with the dress she made, Marinette hung it on the mannequin and dropped into bed, exhausted.

Not even five minutes passed with her eyes closed and there was a knock at the attic door.

“MALEDROIT, MY BREAKFAST!”

Sighing, Marinette stood up and got ready to go through the day again. Another day of Chloe being Chloe. Marinette smiled. She couldn't wait to show that brat her new dress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. You may be wondering: what? sudden update? it's been two years?? yOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT. You see, I broke my laptop two years ago and suddenly I have one? It's my new years resolution to finish both stories I have here so =hopefully= you all get to enjoy the ride. Both new/old readers.

**Author's Note:**

> Next update: Thursday. Hope you enjoyed the prequel while I revise everything. In case we've all forgotten: Maladroit = clumsy.


End file.
